Two's Company
by Sham Harga
Summary: Remus and Sirius' relationship bounces rapidly out of the platonic category, but can Sirius be content with just one guy? R for malemale sexual situations and some language. Yes, this is slash children.
1. Trouble and Temptation

**Two's company**

Summary: Remus has considerable feelings for his best friend, but can Sirius be content with just one guy? Slashy/angsty goodness.

Disclaimer: Don't own anyone, don't own anything. The puppies et al are all wonderful figments of JK Rowling's imagination. I don't even have a penny to my name. So don't bother suing.

Warning: Slash, i.e. guy with guy. Nothing too graphic, but if you don't like slash, don't read! Flames about m/m will only be used to build my impregnable fortress of doom.

A/N: Some final jibber jabber before the actual story. Yes, I'm going to mention this for at least the fourth time – this is SLASH. I like both SB/RL and SB/female & RL/female pairings – as is obvious from my other Marauder fic, 'Lupus, Canis and Gemini'. I know some people don't like SBRL, and I know plenty of people do – but please don't let the Sirius and Remus in this fic affect your judgement of their straight alter-egos in Lupus or vice versa. I'm not entirely sure what I'm getting at here, I think I'm trying to say that those who don't like slash please don't be put off Lupus… and those who do… hopefully enjoy this.

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Remus felt as though his heart was about to punch its way out of his ribcage – which was already shaking uncontrollably with suppressed giggles – and his legs ached as he rounded the corner and took the steps up to the ground floor two torturous steps at a time. He skidded across the stone slabs, almost falling over before his outstretched hands found purchase on an available door handle. Regaining his balance Remus silently opened the door and recognising the interior as the musty dark of the spare Quidditch supply room (such a title being the only thing that distinguished the cramped tiny space from a closet) and slunk into the darkness, gently closing the door behind him.

Remus took deep, shuddery breaths of the stale, sweat-and-leather tasting air and tried to calm himself. Unfortunately, this pause allowed him to recall the recently accomplished prank in glorious detail and set him off once more into silent racks of laughter. Sirius and James had really excelled themselves this time. They had finally figured out how to put a delay on a spell so that the results could be viewed some time after contact with the victim had been made, enough time, for example, for the Slytherin population to reach their common room before the potion distributed to their drinks at dinner took effect.

In Remus' opinion the benefit of such a window between cause and effect was that it gave the perpetrators a chance to be somewhere else entirely – ideally somewhere where the words "What did I do?" and "I don't know what you're talking about," might hold more water. But of course, Sirius and James just _had _to admire their handiwork, so the four Gryffindors had sneaked down to the Slytherin common room. Not all of the boys could fit under James' invisibility cloak so, much to Remus' relief, he and Peter were left to lurk in the corridor and observe the proceedings through one of James' mirrors while he and Sirius invaded enemy territory along with the cloak and corresponding mirror.

A risky venture – but Remus accepted that today was a special one for many reasons. Firstly, the gradual effect of the hex was the result of many months of hard graft and effort, and was, if not the Holy Grail, then at least the Ark of the Covenant of Marauding achievements to date. The prank itself was one of the more subtle yet complex they had designed; the spell itself had been invented by the boys and demanded all the intellect of James, the inspiration of Sirius, the research and perseverance of Remus and – Remus sought fairly for a contribution from the fourth Marauder – all the encouragement of Peter. For all the work it had required the premise of the prank was a simple one and much less audacious than many other of the tricks played in their long-running and expansive record. It had all started with an idle threat from Sirius after a group of Slytherins from his brother's year had made some stinging comments regarding his family and the disappointment that Sirius embodied. It had taken both James and Remus to hold Sirius back and prevent serious blood loss from the offending smirking fifth years.

"I'll make them eat their own filthy words," growled Sirius, ripping apart a Slytherin scarf (Remus did not dare enquire from whom he had stolen it) and feeding the green skin to the roaring Gryffindor fire. The following silence was burdened and solemn.

"We could, you know." James' tone was hesitant, but his expression was the same thoughtful one he adopted whenever he was concocting a plan that would get them into trouble.

"What?" Sirius' voice was no more than a grunt.

"We could make them eat their words - if you wanted to." Suggested James, his voice picking up momentum and enthusiasm as Sirius' ears pricked up. "Some sort of spell that would make their words visible, then they could eat them."

"They'd have to be real, too, it'd involve creating something substantial, something that can be touched," Sirius caught James' excitement.

"It would take some time to do," Remus interjected, "I don't think there's an existing spell for something like this."

"You up for a challenge Padfoot?" James asked.

Sirius nodded eagerly, the rest of the now tattered scarf forgotten. James turned to Peter, who agreed instantly; his vote permanently placed in the 'What James Wants' category.

"Remus?" All eyes turned to him expectantly. How could he refuse? How could he refuse those pleading grey eyes staring out in mock entreaty from under that shaggy black fringe?

"What do you need me to do?" he said, as wearily as he could while enjoying the brief smile Sirius allotted to him for his agreement.

"Moony old boy!" exclaimed James in horror, holding his hands in the air in defence. "Why, we would only ask of your company, nothing more!"

"Really?" Remus raised a questioning eyebrow. James and Sirius may have the greatest brains in Hogwarts, but their planning left much to be desired. "Alright, you'll probably have to create individual spells for each word uttered, unless you wanted the same letters appearing over and over again, it'll have to be tailored to each sound. There may be a way of creating one spell to distinguish between each phrase uttered, but it'll take a lot of effort to create. The words themselves – do you want them like smoke or solid? I imagine you're thinking of floating words, so maybe some sort of bubbles, but they'll not hold their shape. I can think of a few books in the library that'll help us out with that, but I've not even gone on to who, when and where this is going to affect, and so how we'll initiate the prank."

"Merlin," sighed Peter in horrified awe, "This is going to take years."

It actually took five weeks; James and Sirius were not top of the year for nothing, although they would never have succeeded without Remus' extensive knowledge and determination. Oh, and Peter's encouragement, of course. The prank was certainly worth it, however. Remus failed to smother a snigger as he thought back to the chaos in the Slytherin den.

At first the words had been wispy and insubstantial and were so quickly dissipated that nobody paid them any attention; except the four boys who were eagerly watching for them. Soon, though, the bright pink floating letters escaping hapless students' mouths could no longer be ignored. Bobbing like balloons, the words would not pop, but hung menacingly in the air as visible evidence of every student's private conversation. It was inevitable then that the air would be turned blue with curses; literally so in this case. It had been Remus' idea to create a twist in the hex that would create blue letters for each of several swear words the boys' integrated into the spell. And so it was, that in amongst the shoals of pink words, a multitude of "buggers", "shits" and much worse tainted the air in cyan glory. Then the real fun began.

It had been difficult to give the letters some life of their own, but after many failed attempts (including James being buried under a snowdrift of pink 'o's) it had finally been managed, and the fruits of their labours were plentiful. Despite their seeming indestructibility, the letters could combine and many of the capital letters went on an invasive rampage, assimilating smaller letters in order to grow. It was this that allowed a gigantic purple 'ARSE' to hang in foot long letters on the ceiling. Yet, despite the larger amusement opportunities it was here that it all began to go wrong. Letters began to gang up on others – the larger, tougher consonants like the vs, ks and zs began attacking and culling the weaker vowels, and some were audacious enough to begin picking on students. Wands were drawn, but any spells cast on the letters just made them meaner, and all the time more angry shouts added to the flood of letters until the room was almost drowning in the alphabet. The punctuation was no better – gangs of zeppelin full stops were zooming round the room in kamikaze fashion, and errant commas were stinging anyone they came across. This was all very funny for James and Sirius, who were desperately trying to remain still and silent under the cloak in one corner of the dungeon, until they themselves were attacked by a troupe of capital Ms that pulled at the cloak like pincers, revealing the shuffling feet of the spies. They desperately tried to make it to the door unnoticed, but in a mess of dismembered words and too many legs they tripped and sprawled untidily in the doorway. They managed to keep the cloak covering their heads, but their treacherous legs had been exposed and noticed by furious Slytherins and there was nothing else to do but run for it.

The shout into the mirror came out loud and clear, "LEG IT!" came James' urgent warning and Remus and Peter needed no further encouragement. Common sense had long since overcome loyalty, and the arranged agreement within the group was that the more people that got away with it the better; more people left free to plot revenge. Remus snapped the mirror shut and slipped it into his pocket and muttered a quick farewell to the boy beside him.

"See you back at the Common Room, Pete," he encouraged before sprinting away down the corridor as Peter took the map and darted in the opposite direction.

He wondered how far Sirius and James had got before angry Slytherins descended on them and not for the first time felt the stab of guilt at abandoning his friends. However, he knew with certainty, from experience, if he had dared to be noble and wait for his companions that they would have made him suffer far more than any authority would. But still, to leave them in the lurch when he was safe in here. Or perhaps he wasn't. Remus' ears pricked as they heard light but hasty movement in the corridor outside. Had the teachers already been alerted to the commotion? Remus silently burrowed his way further into the trunks and folds of old material behind him and listened as the footsteps halted outside the door. The door knob turned quickly and the door was inched open. The smell hit Remus' sensitive nose and he recognised the silhouette that slipped into the store cupboard. Sirius always smelt of sex; a tantilising mixture of perfumed scent and sweat, compounded with the nervous excitement that was rolling off him in delicious waves. Or perhaps the scent was totally innocent and it was just Remus' association that brought the sexual element. But no, there could be nothing about Sirius that was totally asexual. Remus blushed in the dark and chastised himself for thinking such forbidden thoughts. Again. Why must he continue to torture himself like this? Surely it was bad enough that he had to see Sirius snuggling up to so many women, taking their lips in his own, chewing their necks, their ears? Seeing Sirius with so many perfect partners, things that he could never be – female, beautiful, _normal_ – was that not bad enough? Well, yes, of course it was, so why did he keep doing this to himself? Laughing with him, supporting him, even reprimanding him, but always, always admiring him from afar. Not so very afar now though. In fact very, very close. In the tiny, cramped cupboard Sirius was practically on top of him.

Licking dry lips, Remus whispered, "Sirius?"

"Holy shit Moony!" choked out Sirius. If there was room he would have staggered backwards in shock. "I didn't know you were there!"

Remus blushed in the dark. "Sorry Padfoot, but could you help me up?"

"Give me a minute," Sirius whispered, panting through exhaustion and shock. "I'm suffering from a heart attack here."

"Sorry. But, it's quite important – I'm wedged between the boxes and a broomstick is, well, it's threatening places is all I wish to say."

"Understood Moony. Guess I'll just have to wring you for guilt some other time." Sirius reached out large, strong hands and pulled the smaller boy to his feet. The tiny room shrunk even further, the figure in front of Remus dominating all available space, the enticing smell of his friend overwhelming his senses, drowning his brain in cotton wool in which only the pink bubbles bobbed up and down, making him nauseous with nerves as each word became Sirius, Sirius, Sirius. In the thick silence of the supply cupboard only shaky breaths could be heard, as Sirius struggled to regain his composure from his shock and Remus desperately tried to keep his wildly beating heart under control. Their faces were so close that Remus was gulping Sirius' breath, so close that he could study the movement of each individual eyelash as they fluttered in the shadows.

"Do you think we're safe?" he asked, tension twanging his vocal chords so they broke the silence like the crash on an out of tune piano.

Sirius' reflexes were honed by hours of prank practice and his hand whipped up to cover Remus' mouth almost before he spoke. He put a finger to his own lips and listened for any sound from the corridor outside. Silence reigned.

Sirius' own voice raised barely above a whisper. "You smell anything?" he asked.

Remus shook his head gently, not wanting to dislodge Sirius hand from his mouth and remove the soft pressure on his lips that was sending lightning shocks down his neck. He despised his acute senses that separated him from his friends, just another mark of a freak, despite James' regular assurances that they were useful. But Sirius did something that changed his mind a little.

"This nose," he whispered, using his free hand to trace a tender line down the curve of Remus' nose, "Is very useful Mr Moony. A very attractive piece of super efficient machinery."

His hand gravitated to Remus' ears. "And these -" Sirius looked directly into Remus' eyes and said sternly, "These, Mr Moony, you must never, ever take for granted. Technically superior to anyone else's in this school, and I shall be extremely cross if I hear that you are undervaluing them."

"Eyes," he continued his assessment in the same mock studious tone. "Useful yes, but much of their quality lies in their aesthetic value. Showpieces, really."

Remus felt with delicious surprise the hand on his lip begin to move. Ever so gently and imperceptibly Sirius' hand began travelled between the creases of Remus' mouth, fingertips leaving feather light kisses on his lips. As Sirius tone softened, so did Remus' spinal column and he felt himself melting, sweet fire burning down his back, sweeping away all resistance as it went.

"Now Mr Moony, I admit I'm baffled. I cannot think of a single use for these."

As Sirius tenderly kneaded his lips between the pads of his fingers Remus prayed fervently. Please find a use. Please find a use. Please, please, pleasepleaseplease.

"Ah, yes." Sirius brought his face closer so that noses were touching and painfully slowly removed his hand from Remus' lips, leaving the way clear for his own mouth. "I remember now."

Please please please.

Sirius did not disappoint.

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Reviews welcome – this is my first attempt at slash and would appreciate CONSTRUCTIVE criticism about whether it's believable…

Sham


	2. Flirting and Firsts

To answer one question - yes, this will be a continuing work. One which, after this chapter, will become a little less happy. As before, **disclaimers x 2** - 1) only the plot is mine, all characters and places therein belong to he one and only JK. 2) Slashy slashy (not detailed, but there are definite references to sexual activity), which is male with male relationships. If you don't like it, read no further, don't bore me with flames just because you've ignored the warnings.

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Remus' blood was still roaring with fire as the warmth of Sirius' kiss lingered on his lips ten minutes later as he and Sirius stepped through the Gryffindor portrait hole. Remus had reluctantly agreed to leave the wonderfully cramped and, above all, close confines of _their_ – as it would forever remain to Remus – closet and make a break for the Common Room when all seemed clear. Fortunately, they had managed to make their way back to Gryffindor Tower undetected. Remus had never quite managed to achieve the look of casual innocence that Sirius could adopt so easily, but then, as Sirius pointed out, Remus always looked a little apologetic anyway, as though sorry to the world for taking up valuable space, so neither boy would usually look particularly suspicious. But with the scent of Sirius still clinging to his collar Remus was sure that his barely disguised smirk hinting at guilty pleasure would have been misinterpreted and betrayed them both. As it was, they seemed to have gotten away with it, but not so James and Peter, who, as Remus surveyed the Common Room, were conspicuous by their absence.

"Come on," beckoned Sirius, "let's check our room."

Remus wondered how Sirius could act so cool and normal when only minutes before he had shattered the world beneath Remus' feet and used the shining pieces to erect a statue of himself.

Without a thought, Remus followed, trailing Sirius up the familiar stairs into their empty dorm.

"Oh damn," said Sirius indifferently, "they've probably been caught." Despite the curse, Sirius didn't seem particularly bothered by the fate of the other Marauders, having experienced it himself countless times before, in fact, his tone contained more than a hint of amusement.

"Try the mirror." Suggested Remus, digging it from his pocket and throwing it to Sirius. The effort of acting casual while alone in a room with Sirius Black was straining every nerve in his body. He was so tense that he felt he was likely to explode, or snap and collapse in on himself.

"Smart, as always Moony." Grinned Sirius, snapping open the silver disc.

To his horror Remus felt this compliment ignite a fire in his cheeks and fought hard to hold back the red tide of blush. 'Be normal.' he screamed at himself, 'Is that so hard?'

Remus desperately tried to remember old motions, old attitudes, to feel the simple ease of friendship that had been so natural not an hour before. His old way of thinking was there, he could see it, but it kept slipping through his fingers, a flash of silver fish in a stream, slippery and elusive. Now he second-guessed every one of his actions, he would have to screen each sentence before it escaped and betrayed his dangerous thoughts.

With his kiss Sirius had infected Remus. He had poured himself into Remus' veins where he lingered like the most terrible addiction; destructive yet rapturous. Sirius, with his silky midnight hair, his smoky eyes with their familiar smiling creases, his seductive, easy grin as he laughed at James in the mirror.

"Kilman got them." He informed Remus, still chuckling despite their friend's unfortunate encounter with the intimidating, and now no doubt furious, Slytherin Head of House.

"And?"

"They have to clean the Slytherin Common Room. Apparently once the letters finally pop they just stick to everything. James had pink goo plastered all over his face." At this Sirius collapsed into giggles once more.

Guilt overwhelmed Remus as he considered the plight of James and Peter, suffering through detention in a room full of vengeful Slytherins.

Sirius' laughter dwindled and he studied Remus with a disdainful expression. "Oh, come on Moony, they'll be fine. Always the same gloomy face whenever someone gets caught. I bet you feel worse about Prongs being there than he does."

"I can't help it if I have a conscience."

"A who?" Quipped Sirius. "Look on the bright side, firstly, we pulled off an excellent prank. It took the work of a genius to get such fantastic results." Sirius took a deep bow to his imaginary admirers.

"Who needs a conscience with modesty like yours?" asked Remus.

"My ego has just as much right to be here as you do."

This was tricky territory. To dispute this would be contradiction, and Sirius did not respond well to that. However, to agree would be to call Sirius arrogant. And truthful, a silent voice murmured treacherously. Remus smiled wryly at the joke and steered conversation back to safer ground. "And secondly?"

"Secondly, James and Peter are going to be stuck there for quite some time."

"I'm not sure that they'd see that as such a bright side."

Remus didn't see him move but somehow Sirius had crossed the few feet of floor between them, and now stood mere inches away, eyes fixed on Remus and a wicked grin twisting his features deliciously.

"But I do." His words were a whisper of silk, soft and enticing, but a dangerous edge suggested they'd rolled off a forked tongue. "Because Moony, it's just you and me."

This was it, Remus knew, the serpent was offering the apple, sweet and enticing, and he did not have the will to refuse it. As Sirius snaked his tongue between his open lips, Remus surrendered to blissful temptation, finding the forbidden fruit just as delicious as he had imagined. Sirius melted on his tongue and dived straight into his bloodstream, pure and intoxicating, infecting every cell in his body with vibrant life and lust.

His newly ignited passion razed and distorted the world around him. Time and space, cause and effect, the petty limitations of the mundane realm of physics and logic were as insignificant as ash compared to the new power dominating his life, burning bright, unfathomable and indestructible, consuming everything and breaking boundaries as though they were no more than brittle twigs. They were standing, entwined, and then in a frantic tangle on Sirius' bed without traversing the intermittent space. Clothes disappeared faster than a mere fumble of hands could account for and Remus' socks never returned from the black hole that had kidnapped them.

And then the initial whipping frenzy was over and there was a tense calm like baited breath. Here was the edge; they could back away slowly and try to repair what had been done in reckless yearning, or take a prayer and a leap and tumble over the precipice in a flurry of limbs and lips. Both boys paused, muscles tensed, panting, as panthers ready to fight, their eyes fixed on one another. Remus used the opportunity to drink in Sirius, noticing for the first time how beautiful the naked body was. No breaks or rough edges, just a smooth, flowing form, an unbroken line, curved and gentle. The dim lighting made shadows grow on Sirius' skin, highlighting muscles and creases in his skin where he bent over shading the soft arcs of flesh and a soft glow caressed his forehead where beads of sweat had begun to form. The naked body was breathtaking, powerful yet delicate, living art that expanded and changed as it breathed, and was right now scrutinising Remus with the same intensity through fathomless grey eyes.

Remus blushed, ashamed, as he thought of his own body displayed so obviously. A pale, ragged patchwork of scars, broken skin stretched over small, protruding bones, and yet Sirius was gazing at his tattered form with the same reverence that Remus felt was owed the dazzling Black physique. He wrapped thin arms around himself apologetically, and was surprised when Sirius frowned in disappointment. He hated his body, and loathed the thought of anybody seeing it, changing always behind the safe barrier of his bed curtains. He always kept himself private, never letting anyone too close; he wrapped his body and himself in a protective shroud of distance and secrecy. A life alone was better than a life scorned.

And now here he lay, naked and exposed, and found other's emotions to be not that of disgust, but of admiration and longing. And concern, as Sirius noticed Remus' discomfort. Sirius knew, Sirius knew about Remus' absent self-esteem, Sirius knew that he couldn't bear to let anyone close, Sirius knew that he was a virgin, in fact Sirius knew a great deal more than Remus would have liked anyone to know about him.

Sirius reached out, slowly and gently, and stroked the back of Remus' hand that was clamped to his chest. There was only a small scar here, injuries to his hands tending to be small and easy to heal. Sirius knew about these, too. Sirius knew a lot about these. His finger tips made feather steps to his arm, where they gently traced the white lines that wound about in twisted branches. Remus flinched but did not pull away. Sirius became bolder, leaning closer and walking his fingers through the hollow of Remus' collar bone. With one hand he gently removed Remus' arms from their protective grip and with the other he caressed his chest, where the scars were longest and deepest. Purple and pink and white, all were explored by the tender strokes, discovered not with repulsion, but with care and affection. Sirius fixed Remus with a sincere gaze and raised his right hand to the pale boy's cheek.

"You are beautiful."

This simple declaration was so heartfelt and genuine that Remus, who could not have disagreed more, believed it. He did not know whether to scream with joy or cry with gratitude. He compromised by laughing, which at first startled Sirius, but feeling Remus relax under his hands he grinned, too, and with a raised eyebrow moved his hand slowly down from his chest towards his stomach. His fingers began to move in little circles, which spiralled lower, and lower.

And the passion was back, desperate need seizing the two with a grip of fire as they clawed each other, and just as suddenly it stopped as Sirius tore himself away and fixed Remus with an anxious stare.

"Do you want to do this?"

Sirius had to ask. Remus knew he had to ask, he just didn't want him to. He wanted Sirius to be so far gone with desire that even if he should cry out in terror Sirius would not hear him over the rushing in his ears. To ask meant that Sirius could stop, that Sirius didn't need this. Remus wanted him to need this. He needed him to need it.

"Yes." The whisper was urgent and hoarse and to Remus' delight Sirius pounced upon the consent with an impulsive glee and stole a deep, greedy kiss from Remus' parted lips before fumbling for his discarded wand to lock the door and set a spell around the hangings to conceal their passionate activities.

"Yes."

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Sham


	3. Delight and Disappointment

Howdy, been a while, but I'm working hard in my Uni life. But I'm not forgetting these stories, I'm actuallyreallyexcited about this one so don't give up on it! Sorry to all those fans of Sirius who feel insulted at his portrayal here, if you want a sweeter SB/RL fic why not check out my other slash fics A Marauders Christmas (out of season, I know) and A Walk in the Park, shameless plug, I know, I'm sorry.

Anyway, this is the story you're here for...

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Remus awoke slowly; surfacing gently from the dark, calm waters of sleep. The familiar sound of Sirius' rhythmic snores were as steady as the ebb and flow of the tide, regular and soothing as Remus gradually regained consciousness.

It was dark now, with only thin shards of silver moonlight slicing gaps in the four poster curtains. Remus idly wondered what time it was and at this thought his heart jumped and began to fling itself recklessly around his ribcage. James and Peter! Were they back yet? Had they noticed the empty bed by the window? Or wondered why Sirius' hangings were so suspiciously closed?

An expert at stealth, Remus did not make a sound as he hooked a finger round the dark curtain by his head and gently moved the heavy fabric which whispered conspiratorially across the floor. He peered into the dim room and let a relieved sigh rush past his lips. There was no figure in James' bed and Peter's permanently tidy sheets were as crisp and neat as he had arranged them that morning.

Remus once more turned his attention to the time, however, his left arm (and therefore his watch) was currently pinned to the mattress by Sirius' neck and the sleeping boy showed no desire to release his captive. With all the care of a magician as he whisks the tablecloth from beneath the expensive chinaware Remus slid his arm out from its prison and massaged the life back into his hand as he studied his watch.

Only nine o'clock? He couldn't have been asleep for very long. With a mind still foggy from the clouds of sleep and confused by excited ribbons of delight Remus tried to re-assemble the unusual evening.

Dinner had been at six, of course, and they had made the gratifying and still hilarious visit to the Slytherin common room at half past seven. They must have made it back to the safety of the Gryffindor dorms before eight, surely. And then, well, what happened after had felt like it had lasted forever. Here was the point where his mind collapsed, surprise and joy threading colourful webs through the grey matter of his brain in such an awkward, wonderful tangle Remus felt like he had to bend his thoughts round corkscrews to keep hold of them.

It was frustrating; so long had his thoughts been concerned with being with Sirius, denial, resignation, guilty daydreams, and yet now when it finally happened he could barely recall the memory properly. He wanted to analyse it academically, detail it exactly, pin it to the page and say 'there, that's how it was', but the memory was an elusive butterfly, beautiful, teasing and utterly indefinable.

It had been painful, although not as much as Remus had been expecting; Sirius was very gentle. Remus knew Sirius was experienced sexually – hell, who didn't? – but Remus was sure that he'd never enjoyed a man before. Yet his hands and movements were so sure and delicate, guiding with such considerate certainty that Remus could not believe this was his first time. When he managed to locate his tongue to comment Sirius merely replied, with utter nonchalance, "Some chicks dig it this way."

Even if Remus had wanted to hear more his mind was deafened by intense delight as Sirius' ministrations hot wired his brain and sent words and thoughts melting out of his ears. It was pleasurable. Sweet Merlin it was pleasurable. He became just a huge puppet for Sirius as his nimble fingers drew ecstatic moans and twitches that Remus was helpless to prevent. As they progressed Sirius' own groans were added to the excited cacophony and knowing that he, too, could make Sirius feel the same gratification sent Remus' own enjoyment spiralling out of control in a whirlwind of bliss. Small shocks pulsed from his outstretched fingers, from the tips of his toes, from each upstanding hair on his head and neck, travelling down his nerves in waves of liquid gold, pouring into the dancing fire below his stomach, yearning, pleading, desperate for more. And after the explosion, despite wearied limbs, Remus felt dizzy and light, and imagined that if a breeze were to whisper through the dorms he would be lifted from the bed with no more difficulty than a feather.

So, there was pain, and there was undeniable pleasure, but to Remus' frustration the experience belonged to neither category. This was something new, something different, and it refused to be moulded to so simple a box as the neat files that made up Remus' ordered brain.

It had felt natural, raw, animal. No, Remus _knew _animal, and the need and affection and love was something human, the essence of human with all the pretences, the silken layers of charade cast off and disregarded. Stripped of clothes, stripped of inhibition, stripped even of thought he had been utterly exposed, and, to his eternal surprise, he had enjoyed it. When his shields and defences had been dissolved by the irrepressible lust there had just been the solid core that was Remus Lupin, pure and true, violent and relentless, beautiful and hideous and utterly breathtaking. And once that had been discovered nothing felt the same – once it was over Remus had floated back from the clouds of ecstasy and sunk back into his sweat drenched body and it did not seem to feet. Pins and needles coursed his hands and feet, stretching to accommodate this older, wider soul, and his face was being decidedly disobedient; Remus was unable to stop the right corner of his mouth twitching up in an effort to reach his ear, displaying an unusually mischievous grin.

And there it went again. As Sirius' eyes fluttered open in the darkness Remus' cheek contorted as his lips spread into an unstoppable smile. Sirius' hair was dishevelled, a tangle of jet silk, grey eyes dim and sleepy and a crimson print marking the pale cheek where he had leaned on his hand. Yet he still looked beautiful as he smiled, the familiar self-satisfied grin, at the naked boy gazing down at him.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time." He yawned.

Remus' heart leapt, but in two conflicting directions. His already soaring spirits fluttered happily around this confession, Sirius Black, constant object of doomed affections, had wanted to do intensely private things to him, Remus Lupin. Sirius Black, multiple heartbreaker and all-round popular piece of perfection had wanted to ravish (and hopefully other secret desires Remus had often guiltily dreamed of) a lonely, plain werewolf, and had wanted to do so _for a long time_. The reciprocation of his own feelings unsurprisingly made Remus shiver with glee, but a nagging doubt tugged his bobbing spirits, weighing them down with his natural hesitating pessimism.

_I've wanted to do that for a long time._

The words themselves were thrilling and wonderful, satisfying all Remus' deeply buried hopes, but there was a slight edge to Sirius' voice, a small shadow lurking beneath the idyllic surface of his words that made him hesitate. Sirius made it sound like a conquest, a goal achieved, like coasting through an O in Transfiguration, or a prank achieved. In fact, the smug smirk twisting his features was the same one he had worn earlier that evening when contemplating the chaos in the Slytherin Common Room.

Remus tried to dismiss the poisonous thought, but it was not readily shaken off. He felt like a checked box, a swift tick above the signature of Sirius Black, done that, thankyou very much and that'll be all, form sent off and forgotten about. He tried, but he couldn't ignore the uncertainty in that simple comment, it was like a cut he knew he shouldn't pick, but he had to anyway. What did this mean to Sirius? What did he want?

"Sirius? What happens now?"

Remus had been friends with Sirius long enough to know that questions of this kind were not what he wanted after only the first romantic encounter, but he couldn't help himself. Just as he expected Sirius screwed his face into a still sleepy grimace and sighed.

"About what? About Joanne?"

Shit. How could he have forgotten about Joanne? Sirius' girlfriend of a month - a record for the habitual Casanova - and too nice to be expected to cope with this betrayal. Remus felt worthless, he had let his own selfish craving take over, and now it would be his fault when Sirius let her down. The guilt that always lay in wait in the pit of his stomach reared viciously and tightened its bitter coils around his chest.

Remus tried to disguise his failure to think of others with a feeble, apologetic joke.

"Well, yes," he replied, "Am I supposed to share you or what?" He laughed softly, but it was cut short when he realised his laugh was alone in the quiet, still air.

"I guess." The answer caught Remus so by surprise that he felt winded. He actually felt a blow hit, knocking the air from his lungs, eyes stinging and his stomach sinking painfully.

"That's not a problem is it?" His tone indicated that it shouldn't be a problem and Remus struggled to cover up his intense betrayal and disappointment as Sirius twisted to study him.

"Course not." This was more of a choke than a reply.

"I'm sorry Remus, but I'm just not ready for anything serious. You know that. You _knew_ that, you know me better than anyone."

Remus nodded. This was true, he _had_ known, and this mess was his own fault if he had been too caught up in silly, immature flights of fancy to remember it.

"I really like you, Remus." Sirius' hand caressed Remus' cheek, and he shuddered under his touch. Whether it was through longing or revulsion not even Remus could say.

Sirius leaned up and softly brought Remus' lips to his own. When they were unresponsive he feathered tiny kisses around his chin and down his neck, where he had last night discovered Remus was extremely sensitive. When his questing lips found their way back to Remus' his affection was returned as all resistance was dissolved in a wave of need.

Any love was better than none at all, after all. And how could a gay werewolf hope for anything more?

Persuasion achieved, Sirius glanced round the curtain into the dormitory, and his relief to find it empty was evident.

"I think it would be a good idea for both of us to keep this quiet, just for now." Sirius had the decency to fidget uncomfortably. "I just think it save a lot of pressure and tension that neither of us really want. Right?"

Remus had not the strength nor the will to resist those large, imploring eyes, but he did not agree instantly. Sirius stole another brief kiss before studying him once more.

"Right." Remus' reply was just a whisper, but Sirius heard it and smiled, relieved.

"It's best this way." He assured. "It could be quite fun, exciting. Our secret, just between us, not even Prongs."

Not even Prongs. Remus didn't know if Sirius was exploiting this weakness on purpose, and buried the suspicion immediately before it killed him.

"You and me," Sirius bit Remus' lower lip playfully, "we're something special."

Special. Remus latched onto that word and gripped it for dear life, anchoring his sanity. Special. His chance to be special.

Sirius granted him a few more tender, soft kisses but pulled away when Remus began to reciprocate.

"Not now." He nodded towards the empty beds outside the hangings that had once felt like a haven but now felt imposing and imprisoning. "They'll be back any minute. Goodnight, my Moony."

Remus understood this as his cue to leave and scuttled from Sirius' bed to his own, which was cold and unwelcoming compared to the snug heat he had just left. He shivered, still naked, and wrapped his sheets around him protectively, blushing as he padded round the room picking up discarded clothes thrown about in a fit of passion. Sirius had drawn apart the hangings and noticed what he was doing.

"Moony? You couldn't chuck me my stuff could you? While you're at it."

"No problem." Remus tossed each item onto the foot of Sirius' bed, who, being naturally untidy, left them there, satisfied.

"Night." Sirius gave him a confidential wink and snuggled deep into his pillow, slipping into sleep with untroubled ease.

Remus didn't reply but slipped back into his own bed, pulling on his pyjamas under the protection of his covers. As he lay back on his own pillow listening to the ebb and flow of Sirius' snores Remus felt like he was drowning.

* * *

Just on a totally weird tangent, finally saw Team America: World Police. Choked on my 8 Creme Eggs I was laughing so much! I love Trey Parker and am going to marry Matt Stone.

Sham


	4. Showers and Scuffles

It's a short chapter, just to let you know I'm back writing having found the passion and motivation for it again. Thanks to everyone who kicked my arse back into writing gear!

* * *

Remus woke early as usual, when the sky was still pale and the sunlight weak as though somebody had spilt water over a landscape painting. As he tentatively ventured a leg from the warm, safe embrace of the heavy covers the thin air bit like vicious icicles. Instead of whipping his leg back Remus slowly slipped out of his bed and immersed himself in the bitter air, letting chilly draughts refresh him, his skin tingling as the frosty fingers delved into his skin. He felt cleansed by the invigorating cold, but as soon as his body adapted to the temperature he headed for the showers. He recognised the guttural snores of James and frowned at the tousled figure sprawled in his usual fashion on the bed. What he and Sirius had done had been a gross infringement on the sanctity of the shared room, Remus felt they had tainted the sacred space of the Marauders. Beneath the guilt, Remus was surprised to find that he was a little thrilled by this. It made the whole experience even more exciting, risky and, he almost coloured as he thought the word, naughty. He recognised the power of Sirius' words. _Just us. Not even James. _Perhaps this could be their secret, something whispered, sacred and special.

Remus also knew that not even Sirius and Joanne had slept together in their dormitory. Sirius had plenty of secret spots, but this was a first for him, too. Remus felt a sweep of satisfaction at this victory over Joanne, which was swiftly followed by self-disgust further compounded by his own jealousy, his insides ripping with conflicting reason and emotion.

In the shower he twisted the handle on full blast, allowing the water to hammer heavy beats against his skin, drowning out all sounds but the warming drumming of the drops. Unfortunately he could not cover up the insistent conflict in his head as his confused thoughts continued to tangle and tear at each other.

Why should he be jealous, though? The sly, smug notion sidled in, unbidden. After all, Sirius obviously couldn't care that much for Joanne. Surely if it were serious Sirius would not be making room in his bed for Remus. What real future could there be for them when Sirius had feelings for Remus? He could not be endangering a significant relationship, it if were meaningful there would be no room for him. Commitment was obviously not an issue worth considering. In fact, Remus attempted to convince himself, this arrangement was probably for the best. He received physical satisfaction, and companionship, without the attached pressure or problems of a normal relationship. And as abnormal as he was, how could he handle, never mind expect, a normal relationship? He certainly couldn't provide one. This way he could try to retain balance, shy away from dependence, avoid control and keep his mind fresh and fixed on the one thing that already dictated his life. Best to keep envy, possession and power out of his relationships, while still enjoying the fun that all normal boys wanted. In many ways he was lucky with this situation, surely? Remus turned the water to scalding and scrubbed his skin violently until it felt his own once more.

When he stepped back into the bedroom James has already awoken. While Remus always dressed when he was hidden away in the bathroom, James happily strutted around naked, or clad only in his boxers, as he was now. He stood by the window, having flung open the curtains to inspect the weather and he was not disappointed. Already the sun had risen higher, and was now gleaming with promise. The heavy haze that caught in the treetops like spider webs was already burning away in the growing heat. James stretched, bathing in the soft yellow morning light.

"Mmm, great day." He announced.

"Course it is," came the mumbled reply from Sirius' bed, "I'm in it."

"Padfoot, if you think your presence alters my perception of the merits of a day one iota you are gravely mistaken. Which is not an uncommon occurrence."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much. Admit it once and for all Prongs, you've got it hard for me." Sirius' grinning head appeared from beneath the covers. "As does all of the sane population of this school, including your fair Evans. I'm just too much of a gentleman to press my favours upon our favourite scornful redhead."

"I'll tell you something once and for all," James rounded upon Sirius, who goaded him with pouting and some fairly obscene gestures, "your head needs shrinking a few sizes before we can squeeze you out of the door and down for breakfast."

With that James leapt across the room and onto Sirius, and began pummelling his head. Sirius, for his part, began flailing at James' face, removing his glasses with a victorious 'ha!' flinging them away where they hit a bleary Peter about to take his turn in the bathroom. Peter merely shook his head wearily at Remus, who he thought looked a little to disaproving since this was merely a well observed, if tiresome, morning ritual.

James, with practiced athletic skill had managed to trap one of Sirius' arms beneath himself and was currently holding the other arm whilst alternatively tickling and punching Sirius' torso. Laughing, Sirius' squirmed and launched himself up, freeing his arm and pinning James beneath him, dislodging his bed sheets, raising a cry of consternation from the helpless Prongs.

"Merlin, Pads, you slept starkers! Gerroff me!"

"Making you hot am I? Told you you found me irresistible."

"You wish!" James landed a punch in Sirius' stomach, throwing him backwards and tangling the boys once more. They brawled and twisted and grunted until -

"Ow! Moony! He's biting me, help me with the stupid mutt!"

When he received no reply James looked up from underneath Sirius' bare and bruising arm, only to find that Remus was no longer there.


End file.
